


They don't teach love at Hogwarts

by YandereDad



Series: Draco Malfoy/Mariana Cersius [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 04:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17297723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YandereDad/pseuds/YandereDad
Summary: Mariana has never quite understood the art of love, despite wizarding prowess, unable to learn of such feelings from books or classes.So why would the natural-born Slytherin tutor Draco Malfoy when she could have been studying the next year's content?





	They don't teach love at Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for a follower
> 
> Please consider checking me out at https://yanderedad.tumblr.com/ :3

If Mariana’s memory was as precise as her O.W.L exam scores suggested, then she was certain that the Malfoy heir had detested her the moment they had met as young children at his family’s manor, almost throwing a tantrum when his father had commanded him to keep her entertained as he and her father discussed  _ personal business _ , scuffing his leather shoes, that had to at least cost an average auror’s wage, as he stomped violently against the pavement. Whether it be that he was a brat that refused to be told what to do or simply didn’t like her, Draco led her into the depths grand maze behind the manor before abandoning her, ignoring her demands that he come back to guide her, lost until she eventually managed to traverse the ever-changing layout of the maze hours later. From that moment onward she had kept herself entertained whenever duty called her father to the manor, losing herself within the ancient library that the Malfoys had curated for centuries, further building upon her extraordinary mental capabilities while Draco attempted to bother to her to no end, from stealing her book on advanced potion studies on the back of his broomstick to sticking  _ Drooble's Best Blowing Gum _ in her lengthy champagne hair, only smirking in childish delight as her father was forced to cut it to remove the resistant candy. 

His animosity knew no bounds when they entered Hogwarts together, in the same year and the same house no less, his teasing only coming to a halt at the shock she had been sorted into Slytherin rather than Ravenclaw, family heritage and cunning genius overruling her stoic demeanor and natural talents. When he’d managed to recover from shock, he’d adamantly protested that someone like  _ her  _ had no place in  **_his_ ** house, demanding that she be moved or else his father would intervene, though Professor Snape brought a swift end with a curt ten points deducted from Slytherin and a week of evening detentions for Draco and any of his goons who played along. Although she couldn’t quite label him a bully, Draco certainly didn’t leave her alone after that incident upon their arrival at Hogwarts, his favourite hobby seeming to be teasing her, whenever he wasn’t doing the same to Harry Potter, playing quidditch or just generally causing trouble for unsuspecting students. 

Mariana’s father, in rare moments of compassion, always assured her that it was simply jealousy for her natural wizarding prowess, something she was accustomed to with students of all ages and backgrounds, though in her third year, when she had asked the seventh year Slytherin girls for advice after Draco had snuck a Confusing Concoction into her dinner one night, they had simply giggled out something unintelligible about the hearts of young boys. It had never made any logical sense to her, the social practise of young boys attempting to gain the attention of their ‘ _ crush _ ’, or whatever it was her peers called those they fancied, by terrorizing them, or why anyone would ever consider such behavior to be socially acceptable, let alone  _ romantic _ .  

At the very least, he had managed to settle down over the years, the crass pranks and not-so-subtle bullying of his youth mellowing into taunting and teasing that teetered on the edge of cruel on occasion. Over the years they were forced to tolerate each other’s company, through classes and family events, Mariana had studied Draco just as she did her restricted  _ Moste Potente Potions _ textbook, growing to understand his need to display his social dominance due to the secret dealings his family had, and even came to feel sorry for him after her cautious eyes caught a glimpse of his Dark Mark. 

Maybe that was why she had volunteered to tutor Draco when Snape had humiliated him in-front of the entire class, revealing he had failed the previous examination though not why, knowing well that Draco’s nights had been spent plotting rather than studying - she knew this too, from the evenings and early mornings she had spotted him sneaking back into their dorm room after investigating the vanishing cabinet while she had studied, and their families’ alliance as pure-bloods. Or perhaps it was the sight of his perfect ivory skin turned grey, once playful cheeks gaunt, breath-stealing eyes sunken and mischievous whimsey for trouble replaced by the same grim demeanor as his father.

The most unlikely, nay,  _ impossible  _ of all was that she had sacrificed her own free time, which she always used to study without fail, to assist Draco, despite her opposing sternness and preference for peace and quiet, because she loved him. The suggestion was illogical, preposterous even, considering all the torment he had gleefully caused her over the years, an ever-present thorn in her side that had infamously transformed her Siamese cat into a slug and turned her hair neon green, both on multiple occasions, yet somehow she still found him endearing in his own unique way.

It was quite the startling self-revelation she had come to after hours of researching what heated cheeks, an upset stomach and an unusual desire to care for another was symptomatic of. Her diagnosis was not the flu as she had expected, but romantic affection, a first for her, and something she had come to assume would never occur. She had always paid greater attention to her studies and the continuous loop of books she threw herself into than to members of the opposite sex, more concerned with enhancing the vault of knowledge that resided within than chasing fleeting teenage romances as her peers did. 

Though she tried to ignore it, to not acknowledge the lingering butterflies in her stomach when Draco would tease her for practically living inside the library and being better friends with the books within than other people, she couldn’t deny her biological nature, the primitive and instinctual function of her hindbrain compelling her to find a mate, forgetting that unlike her ancestors she would statistically, and hopefully, live far longer than the ripe age of 21, while her frontal cortex reminded her of her duty to her family, to carry on the family legacy as the only heir, to find a worthy wizard of pure blood and noble worth lest she disappoint her father  - and luckily for her, Draco possessed both those key qualities. 

Even then, as she stood on her tiptoes to lean over his shoulder, ensuring that he stirred clockwise enough times and not one time too many, and remembered to add the sloth brain  _ before  _ adding the sopophorous bean juice, as he had confused the order during his first seven or so attempts, insisting that he didn’t need her charity and becoming nastier as he grew more frustrated with his failings, she still loved him, unable to control the warmth that invaded her cheeks or the knots that tied within her belly at the proximity they shared. 

Watching him attempt to brew the potion yet again, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, holding herself back from commenting on his mistake of stirring the cauldron seven times clockwise, only a single error away from finally perfecting the brew. 

A burst of lime smoke from the cauldron signaled failure yet again, the young wizard cursing wildly as he kicked it over, the concoction hissing as it soaked through the floorboards. 

“Remember Draco, you stir seven times anticlockwise, rather than clockwise, but you’re  _ almost– _ ” she started, moving from her position behind him to fetch the extra ingredients she had been clever enough to have had the foresight to prepare. Before she could, however, Draco whirled around, grey eyes wildly vivid for the first time months as he forced her to the ground, hands that knew death intimately gripping at her shirt collar. 

“Shut it, just shut the fuck up!” he bellowed, cheeks turned crimson from what she assumed was fury, specks of spit flying in rageful ignorance onto her face as his nails threatened to rip into her collar. Draco. With his hair shadowing his eyes until they were only slithers of madness and his contradictory slender yet muscular body, all she could see from beneath him was how he so viciously bared his teeth at her, clenched from fury and irritation, as he huffed from exerting himself. 

“Do you have  _ any  _ idea how hard it is?” he eventually spoke after what her internal clock registered as less than a minute of deathly silence, yet her mind felt as though was hours, his cryptic question leaving her speechless, much to his chagrin. “Well? I thought you aced all your O.W.L exams? Are you seriously that moronic that you’ve never  _ noticed _ ?” 

He wasn’t wrong, unlike the answers on his practise N.E.W.T exams - not only had she achieved straight  _ O _ s in all her O.W.L exams the year before, but had been the Dux of their cohort six consecutive years, effortlessly maintaining perfect grades. Even so, despite her classification as a magical prodigy, she was completely clueless to whatever it was Draco spoke of, only able to blink bewilderedly up at him as she rummaged through her mind, scrutinizing every possibly relevant memory until everything went blank, her entire body powering down.

As she rebooted, the first thing her brain processed was the sensation of warm, teeth-worn lips pressed against her own in heated passion, a far cry from the rage she had thought possessed him, though there was still an element of uncertainty, his weight lifted off her to give her the opportunity to push him off, and hands that yearned to delve into her lengthy blonde hair resting on either side of her head. For a heartbeat she was frozen as she tried to comprehend the situation, to understand why Draco Malfoy would ever kiss someone like her, someone he constantly teased as being a no-life nerd and a boring loser. 

When his lips began to part from hers she yanked his tie and pulled him back in, not out of logical reasoning but irrational instinct that told her he was all she ever wanted and more. If their first kiss was a burst of flames, then their second was like the drop of a feather, impossibly light yet perfect all the same, breath mingling as her hands traveled from his tie to cup his cheeks, thumbs stroking the prominent bones. 

“My whole life I’ve been in your shadow” he admitted, lifting the two of them so that she sat in his lap, with his head tipped as to not meet her gaze out of embarrassment. “Even before we met, my father would tell me of you, would remind me of what a disappointment to our heritage I was for not having your talent. By the time we finally met  _ I– _ ” he frowned to himself and shook his head as though he was ashamed “ _ – _ I hated you almost as much as I hated myself”. 

He dared to meet her mismatched eyes, opening the windows to his soul, and revealing years of torment that he had been on the receiving end of before he passed it onto others. 

“But at much as I despised you for how my father turned your success into my failure, I still _ – _ I always…” he sighed under his breath, frustrated though no longer angry, as he gently held her hands “I loved you, not for your talent but your devotion, your humility and the kindness you showed me after everything I did. I know I’ll never deserve you, because you deserve far better than someone like  _ me _ , but I still and always will _ –!” _

She kissed him again, addicted to the feeling that she had so longed for, and so overwhelmed by his admission that he felt the same. She knew exactly who somelike like him was - a Death Eater, loyal to the Dark Lord and his bigoted purist family - yet she loved him no less, dreaming of a future where he would be free from their shackles and could be himself.

“I love you too Draco, but unless you finally perfect the draught of living death the next time we kiss it’ll be goodbye when you get sent home for failing your classes!”   


End file.
